


snaca

by wearethewitches



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry Potter, Adoption, Angst and Feels, Animagus, Animagus Harry Potter, Character Study, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, False Identity, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Harm to Children, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Identity Issues, Identity Reveal, Magical Accidents, Magical Realism, Malfoy Family, Malfoy Family Feels, Parseltongue, Past Abuse, Secret Identity, Snakes, Wizarding Traditions, Wizarding World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 23:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10932105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: snake: a long limbless reptile which has no eyelids, a short tail and jaws that are capable of considerable extension. Some snakes have a venomous bite.





	snaca

Harry Potter is five and she can make flowers open and close in her hands. Harry Potter is five and she can make flowers live months of their lives backwards and forwards in the space of seconds. Harry Potter is five and her magic flows from her blood through her fingers and toes to whatever she touches, because they are conduits she can easily understand. Harry Potter is five and her nose is big for her face. _She’ll grow into it,_ says her aunt, _Lily grew into it too._

Harry Potter is six and she isn’t in primary school. Harry Potter is six and she is running in circles in her aunt and uncle’s backgarden, swinging on Dudley’s broken swing, holding herself up on the snapped rope after unscrewing the broken plastic seat. Her red hair is in a tight braid that she hates because the long end makes her back itch, but only until she pushes magic through her skin and out down her hair like lightning, snapping the tight elastic band that holds the braid together.

Harry Potter is seven and she knows her mother’s name was Lily and her father’s name was James. Harry Potter is seven and she knows her parents names because she has a big nose and _she’ll grow into it, Lily grew into it too_ and because she taught herself to read with Dudley’s books, _a freak like James Potter and all his other freaky friends who knew too much_. Harry Potter is seven and she goes to primary school, knowing how to read but making silly mistakes when she speaks because she hasn’t had the chance to speak much in her life.

Harry Potter is eight and the forest outside Little Whinging is beautiful, full of dark, damp places where her slithering friends live. Harry Potter is eight and she learns more life lessons from a grass snake and then an adder, than she’s ever learnt from Petunia or Vernon Dursley. A grass snake is quiet and tells her she’s a _Speaker_ and that Speakers should always have respect for the ones they _Speak_ to. An adder eats the grass snake and wraps itself around her neck like a noose, telling her that respect is good and she will do as the adder says or be eaten like the grass snake.

Harry Potter is nine and she has no home. Harry Potter is nine and in an office far, far away, a spindly, silver device explodes and sets fire to a cabinet of books. Harry Potter is nine and she is running, sliding across the grass. The adder is afraid and tries to tell her what to do but Harry Potter is a snake and she is the bigger snake. Harry Potter eats the adder and then she slithers across the ground, eating mice and fighting other snakes that all fall to her might. Harry Potter is nine and she is a snake and she is _invincible_.

Harry Potter is nine and she is a snake and she is invincible.

A snake is nine and she is invincible.

A snake is invincible-

A snake is frozen in place, trapped. It is unable to move and is cold. A snake remembers a flower, opening and closing and a power that flows like lightning down red hair to snap an elastic band. A snake is frozen in place, trapped and unable to move, but it remembers a power controlled by _belief_ and a snake believes it is warm, not cold and a power runs through cold blood, warming it.

“Now, what do we have here?” Comes a voice, before a stick is run down a snake’s spine. “Not a native species of snake to Britain…what type of snake you, I wonder, dear witch or wizard? For you see, my wards sensed an animagus and kept it from running…” and then the stick feels like _power_ , like the power that makes a flower open and close, that makes an elastic band snap and warm a cold snake. The voice says a word the snake does not understand and then the snake is not a snake, the snake-

Harry Potter is ten years old and she was a snake. Harry Potter is ten years old and she was a _snake_.

“You’re a child,” the man says sharply, causing Harry to look up, blinking in confusion, before her vision darkens and she awakens again in a soft bed, confused. _I was a snake._

Harry Potter is ten years old and she was a snake.

“Hello,” the same man from before is sitting by her bedside. Harry looks over, frowning deeply in childish puzzlement. The man closes a book, looking at her interestingly. “I am Lucius Malfoy, Lord of this manor. What is your name?”

Harry Potter is ten years old and she was a snake – but Harry Potter is ten years old and she knows well enough not to tell strangers the truth.

“Adelaide,” she lies, voice croaky and surprising. “I like to be called Addy.”

“Do you have a last name, Addy?”

Addy does not have a last name, because Addy is Harry Potter and a character she’s making up as she goes. Addy doesn’t have a last name and because Harry Potter can’t think of one without stealing from someone else, Addy shakes her head. Lucius Malfoy raises an eyebrow.

“Well. That is interesting. How long have you been an animagus, Addy?”

Harry Potter remembers the man from when she was a snake and Addy thinks for a few seconds, trying to find an answer to _how long have you been a snake, Addy?_

“I’ve not,” Addy answers truthfully.

Lucius Malfoy eyes her strangely for a moment, as if her answer doesn’t make sense, but then his face changes to one of surprise.

“Amazing. Do you mean, you have never _not_ been a snake?”

Addy struggles to understand the question. Harry Potter struggles to understand the questions. Addy answers, “I don’t know. Where am I?”

“You are in my home. My wife and son are having their breakfast, presently.”

Addy feels her stomach and she doesn’t like the feeling. “I’m hungry.”

Lucius Malfoy stands and holds out a hand. “Then let us eat.”

Addy thinks of the green snake, eaten by the adder and the adder, whom she ate. _Is it my turn to be eaten? I don’t want to be eaten!_ But her mind works fast, because the green snake had been afraid and the adder had been afraid. _If I’m afraid, I will be eaten._

Addy is unafraid and she pushes her covers away, taking Lucius Malfoy’s hand.

* * *

Once upon a time, a girl with flaming hair was a snake and she stumbled upon Malfoy Manor. She created a person to be and didn’t see anything wrong in that, using logic to answer questions truthfully as she could. She dined with silver-haired aristocrats that reminded her of Duchess from _The Aristocats_ , the youngest of the three she ate with asking if the song she hummed was music practice, for arpeggios and scales.

Once upon a time, a girl with flaming hair that had been and could be a snake any time she wished begun to live with a family of witches and wizards. She learnt how to write with a quill and how to sit up straight when doing so, under the watchful eye of the Lady, the Lord admonishing her gently when she can’t play an instrument like the Little Lordling who eventually orders her, _call me your brother, for Merlin’s sake, you’re my sister!_

Once upon a time, a girl with flaming hair that can be a snake and has a Little Lordling for a brother and a Lord and Lady for parents truthfully pretended her birthday is in September. In an office inside the manor where she lived, a quill writes down _September eighth,_ adding a random number when the girl doesn’t give one – and in Gringotts bank, a waiting enchantment on a contract with the Lord, the Lady and the girl’s signatures pens out _7 th month, 8th day_ and glows gold. Far, far away, north and then west, a book of names inside a desk, inside a school makes the name _Harry Potter_ disappear in the class of ’91, reordering the class of ’92 so _Adelaide Malfoy_ can fit under _Maisie MacDonald_.

* * *

“I don’t want you to go,” Addy frets and cries when Draco moves to get on the Hogwarts Express. Draco looks to his parents, but Narcissa is more likely to help Addy stop him from boarding and Lucius loves watching their antics with quiet amusement. Down the platform, a red-headed family with more copper than Addy’s auburn is going through a different process, but still one much the same, with an eleven year old boy getting on the Express to the goodbye of his little sister.

Later, the next day, Addy will get a letter proclaiming _Harry Potter never showed up_ and she will stare for a long time, wondering if her chance to go to Hogwarts too has slipped away out of her grasp. When reading her brothers letter, she will be in her room and her parents each in their own separate studies and they will have no reason to question her subsequent panic-attack. A house-elf by the name of Dobby, under orders, will not tell them either, even though he is the one to calm her down and convince her not to let the feelings wash over her in the form of a snake – for too long, at least.

Harry Potter is Adelaide Malfoy and as she does not want to forget the character she has become by being stupid. Adelaide Malfoy does not stay in the form of a snake for more than ten seconds and runs to her father once she is transformed back, apologising and crying because she knows he said not to. _You will lose yourself again, my Adelaide, my serpentine treasure. Do not transform. I nor your mother want to lose you._

“I love you,” she says afterwards, sniffing and buried in her father’s pitch black robes.

“And I love you, Addy.” He presses a kiss to her forehead before shifting her so that he might use a hand to write, softly singing a lullaby in a foreign language, soothing her into sleep. Narcissa will come in at dinner-time, flustered over Addy’s disappearance, but calming again at the sight of her in his lap.

* * *

Adelaide Malfoy is eleven and she is not a snake. Adelaide Malfoy is eleven and she wants for nothing and there are no rules, not like with the Dursley’s. Addy can do anything she wants in Malfoy Manor, so long as she always turns up to her lessons on time and show up for breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper. When Addy was ten and Draco was barely eleven, she saw him get upset after his broom was taken away for flying without permission. Addy didn’t understand and she still doesn’t – he never had permission to fly, so why did he fly?

 _Freedom_ , a snake from the garden tells her when she is eleven and tending to the magical roses beneath her window that she planted herself. _He did what he wanted without asking._

_But I do that all the time. I came out here to tend to my roses. How can it be freedom if he gets in trouble for it?_

_Your nest-mate had a choice given to him. He used his freedom to take the wrong choice._

Addy thinks more on what the snake said and makes a habit of talking to it when she tends her roses. The snake isn’t like the grass snake or the adder – it doesn’t tell her to respect snakes like the grass snake, or to do as it says and face the consequences if you don’t, like the adder. The snake in the roses has… _conversations_ with her. There is a back and forth she didn’t have with the grass snake or the adder and Addy finds she enjoys it.

 _Is this friendship?_ She poses the question one day. _We talk and I’m not just listening, I’m taking part._

_This is conversation. Friendship implies loyalty. We are acquaintances._

When Addy asks her mother the same question – “Is this friendship? Two people talking and taking part, not just one talking and the other listening?” – Narcissa questions what brought this about.

Addy says, “A conversation with an acquaintance.”

Her mother talks more about friendship to her and they curl up in front of a roaring fireplace, Narcissa carding her fingers through Addy’s hair and talking about what makes people friends. Addy discovers that there is more than just conversation to friendship – there is loyalty to each other, like the snake in the roses says, but there is also companionship. Addy discovers that her family is at one end of an extreme, where they all love each other greatly and get on all of the time – the Dursley’s are at the other end, where people hate and abuse.

Addy tells her mother she thinks her aunt and uncle hated her. Narcissa asks why and Addy says things out loud that maybe she shouldn’t have. She compares them – _they are extremes_ , she thinks _, they have to compare, like bad and good_ – and says that the Malfoy’s give her a bedroom with a toy-room and a bathroom and the Dursley’s gave her a cupboard with a light that didn’t work.

Narcissa cries and Addy doesn’t know why, letting her mother hug her tightly, but then she thinks on what she herself said. _One extreme to another, bad to good…oh._ Addy knows humans aren’t supposed to have the worst of the extremes, that it can _kill_ and that it’s morally and ethically wrong, like murder – which is an extreme, opposite birth, giving life versus taking it – and she suddenly understands.

“What they did was wrong to me,” she whispers, feeling shell-shocked. Her mother sobs and runs her hands over Addy’s head, kissing her forehead hard, whispering.

“Yes, it was wrong, so wrong my darling. It should have never happened. Never – not to anyone. Oh, my _darling._ ”

Addy starts to cry too and for a while, she forgets about friendship.

* * *

In a moment, one decision can anything. For instance, paying attention to a family of four and ignoring a family of three. Ignoring the family of three can lead you to losing your toad as you put your trunk and his terrarium down, to greeting a girl with bushy hair and searching for Trevor the toad with no luck; paying attention to the family of four can lead to your things being knocked over and the terrarium broken, Trevor the toad nearly stepped on before he’s picked up by a toad-friendly and very apologetic sixth-year, who repairs the terrarium and charms it to be unbreakable, shutting Trevor the toad inside so he might stay there the entire journey.

In this world, where the Malfoy family numbers four rather than three, Neville Longbottom does not meet Hermione Granger, who is invited to sit with a group of future Ravenclaw’s. She is gladly accepted into their ranks. Neville Longbottom instead first befriends Ronald Weasley, who’s looking for someone – anyone, to sit with. When Draco Malfoy pops in later, searching for Harry Potter, it’s Neville’s hesitant words that get him to begin a quiet accord with Ron.

“I-I-I saw your sister on the platform. Sh-she looked sad you were leaving.”

Draco glances at him, frowning. “What about her?”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Ron mutters, frowning.

“Well, you wouldn’t know about sisters, would you?” Draco sniffs, “The Weasley’s haven’t had a girl in eight generations.”

“Seven,” Ron argues, glaring slightly, “And I do have a sister. Her name’s Ginny – she’s coming next year.”

“So is my sister.” There’s an awkward silence before Draco Malfoy leaves. There is no Harry Potter there to cause Draco Malfoy to get cocky.

After all, Harry Potter doesn’t exist anymore – and by Merlin, do all the teachers of Hogwarts know it.

* * *

“She’s not on the list, Albus,” McGonagall shakes her head, trying not to cry. “You know what that means.”

“She could have always been adopted,” Dumbledore says, leaning over a small silver device that looks battered beyond all repair.

“Magical adoption is illegal. Harry is dead, Albus.”

Unluckily for the teachers that night, during the annual pre-school year staff meeting, Minerva McGonagall is drunk as fuck and it doesn’t get much to make her begin crying _. Lily and James’ poor wee bairn, dead as a doornail!_

Severus Snape resigns. Horace Slughorn is introduced on the first of September as the Potions Professor – in the crowd, Draco Malfoy’s heart dropping like a stone because _that’s my godfather! Where’s he gone?_ His letter to his parents includes a long paragraph about his absence, one that isn’t in Addy’s. She’s never met his godfather and never will at this rate, so why would she want to know?

The Daily Prophet runs an article, eventually, when Bathsheba Babbling gets approached by a reporter whose child is in Hogwarts and notes Harry Potter’s lack of appearance. Bathsheba tells the story of McGonagall’s heart wrenching speech and hands over the first-year picture that is always taken in secret, when the first years are still in the antechamber in their plain black, unstriped and Hogwarts-crest emblazoned robes, waiting to be sorted. The article bemoans the loss of the Girl-Who-Lived and Minister Fudge’s mind sparks at the news. Once despair has turned to anger, he takes the article and he goes to Azkaban, shouting in Sirius Black’s face and throwing the paper into his cell.

Sirius Black sees Wormtail in the picture, being held by a young, _innocent little boy_. His blood boils at the outrage and he swears to the ghosts of his family – to Lily, to James and to poor, poor Harry who died before she ever saw the glory of Hogwarts – that he’ll save this boy, that he’ll catch Wormtail and bring him to justice, even if it means giving up his soul afterwards.

No-one’s ever escaped Azkaban. He doubts neither the Ministry nor the dementors will want anyone to know how.

In the south of Wales, Remus Lupin has different thoughts. He sees the article as sees the last of his pack dead. He knows how to make a noose. He’s tried it that way many times before. It never worked. Nothing Remus Lupin has tried before has ever worked – and he’s too much of a coward to take the quiet way out.

 _Avada kedavra_ is such an easy spell to cast when you hate yourself.

So, too much of a coward but too damn sober for the death of his beloved Harry, the girl who might have called him _Uncle Moony_ in another universe, Remus staggers to the nearest wizarding pub, handing over all the sickles he has in his pockets – he doesn’t trust himself with galleons and rightly so, considering his situation presently. Getting as tipsy as he can, Remus plays darts and bets money he doesn’t have, getting double the amount back after so many consecutive wins against different opponents who, for once, understand his need to get piss-drunk and even lose on purpose so he can afford the most alcoholic bottle on the shelf.

Werewolf metabolism always makes bartenders like werewolves more. Unfortunately, like all bartenders, the one Remus buys from eventually has to kick him out like the rest of the poor sods in the bar.

Once sitting on the street outside, aurors on the way to deal with the havoc the other folks around him – not Remus, never Remus – are causing, Remus looks at the photo, trying to imagine an eleven year old Lily with James’ hazel eyes in amongst the first-years.

Instead, his eyes slip to the rat in Ron Weasley’s hands that Sirius Black is breaking out of Azkaban for at that very moment – and just like Sirius Black, his blood _boils_.

* * *

“I need to see Madame Bones,” the man says. Tonks eyes him warily, because he’s supposed to not only be a drunk wizard, but a drunk werewolf and Tonks is…not equipped to deal with drunken werewolves. “Do you see what is wrong with this picture?” He holds up a Daily Prophet, with the infamous title _HARRY POTTER DEAD AS A DOORNAIL_ in capitals highlighted above the picture of Harry Potter’s first year class. “Do you see it?”

“Mate, I have no idea,” Tonks shakes her head, glancing at Robards, who immediately turns away, expression clear. _I’m not helping._

The werewolf points at the picture, to a boy with a rat. “Wormtail. That’s _Wormtail_. Wormtail is supposed to be _dead_.”

“It’s a rat, mate.”

Then the werewolf says something very strange indeed. “He’s an animagus. I’d recognise him anywhere.”

Tonks frowns. “How would you recognise him?”

“He and James and- and _Padfoot,_ they became animagi for me,” the man abruptly sniffs, squeezing his eyes shut in obvious upset. “I’m a werewolf. Being animagi meant they could spend full moons with me when we were in Hogwarts together.”

“…that’s impressive,” and it is, it really is. To become animagi when _still in Hogwarts…_ Tonks sees the moment when he notices her hair, which she can feel fluctuating in colour at her awe and interest in what he has to say. “Metamorphmagus.”

“You’d have interesting children,” he says amusedly, Tonks immediately grinning.

“My mum said my hair started changing colour right after I was born.”

“Imagine twins – you’d never be able to tell who was who.”

Tonks positively cringes at the idea, “Merlin, no, don’t make me think about it. That’s just a bad idea.”

The man chuckles, before falling silent. A moment passes, before he speaks again. “I’m sober again.”

“Werewolf metabolism?” Tonks questions, getting a nod. “How long were you drunk?”

His laugh is bitter for good reason. “Half an hour. James Potter was my brother in all but blood.” It doesn’t take long to connect the dots in Tonks’ head, her eyes traversing to the paper still clutched in his hand.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I mean it.”

“It’s alright. It’s not, but I’m okay. I’ve got another reason to live – I wasn’t just giving you delirious, half-drunk rambles.” He holds the paper up again, eyes full of fury. “This rat is Peter Pettigrew. Sirius Black supposedly blew him up, with nary a finger left.”

Tonks’ stomach turns.

The rat in the picture is clearly missing a toe.

“Madame Bones, you said?”

* * *

“Dad, where are you going?” Addy questions, frowning at seeing her father in a fancy robe with his special swan-headed cane rather than his normal snake one. “Dad?”

“Sirius Black, your mother’s cousin, is having a Samhain trial by combat – it’s him, versus Peter Pettigrew and if he loses, then Remus Lupin against Pettigrew and then a witch who is coincidentally your mother’s niece. The Sacred Twenty-Eight have to be there, if they can, with fill-ins for the dead and departed. Your mother is filling in for Walburga, seeing as the crone can’t leave her house- dammit!” He curses and Addy swallows, seeing him frantically fiddling with his cravat. Going over, Addy thinks over the Sacred Twenty-Eight and the rules that have been driven into her head. She thinks and it’s then that she realises the game is up.

The Potter’s are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and she is Harry Potter, the last Potter.

“Who’s filling in for the Potter’s?” She questions her father as she bats his hands away slowly, fixing his cravat. Her mother comes down the stairs wearing an elegant gown, stiff and looking stressed, even to Addy.

“Probably Dumbledore, which is a complete sham, considering it was him who placed her with those stupid muggle relatives-”

Addy can’t keep her mouth shut, looking up at her father with wide eyes. “You really think the Dursley’s are stupid?”

_The game is up._

Lucius Malfoy locks eyes with Adelaide Malfoy.

 _Your life is over_.

“Addy. Please, truthfully, tell me you are not Harry Potter.”

Harry Potter created Addy after a stray thought about _stranger danger_. If Lucius Malfoy had said Adelaide Malfoy, Addy would have denied any and all connection to Harry Potter – they aren’t related in the slightest, except through Narcissa and the Black’s and even then, only going up and down the family tree.

But Lucius Malfoy told Addy to speak truthfully and she must, for he is her father, even if he is not Harry Potter.

“I was, once.”

Narcissa swears unkindly in French, though Addy is rather perplexed by the words, having never heard them before. She starts to copy them out loud, instigating a short shouting match between her parents as Lucius, scandalised, tells his wife off for that kind of language in front of their daughter.

Dobby is called and Dobby is ordered to use house-elf magic that can’t be removed by wizards to glamour Addy to disguise how her casual purple robes aren’t court-worthy, to trim them with Potter crimson and touch the Potter crest on her lapel – to glamour her, head to toe, to make her taller and broader, with short, dark mahogany hair that looks red in the light, to make her eyes a darker shade of brown with flecks of green. A scar in the shape of an _avada kedavra_ is placed on her forehead. Once it is done, Dobby is made to act as Harry Potter’s house-elf, to glamour himself differently too.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy apparate to the Ministry of Magic and as they plan, Dobby appears with Harry Potter at last minute, right before the Potter representative is called to heel by Minister Fudge, who presides over the duelling ring, where Sirius Black stands, gaunt, frail and thin, but tall, opposing Peter Pettigrew, a ratlike blonde man with a prominent shake. Their wands wait in the hands of aurors in the middle of the ring and a crowd is gathered, the Twenty-Eight with high chairs so they can look down on the Samhain trial by combat.

Adelaide Malfoy knows that means a duel to the death. She decides that Harry Potter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight would know that, too and within a millisecond, it settles in her mind, finally, always.

She is Adelaide Malfoy and she is pretending to be Harry Potter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

“I call forth…the Potter representative,” Fudge calls, voice weary as a respective silence falls across the crowd. Harry Potter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight sees a bearded man approach the chair, the _throne_ that holds the Potter crest, face solemn – but she is Harry Potter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and she pushes forwards, Dobby invisible at her side, coming to stand in front of the old man who is going to claim to be her representative.

“Harry Potter, to take my place as Head of my House for the Samhain trial by combat, here today. No Regent can claim in my stead, for I have none, nor Magical Guardian, for much the same reasons.”

The old man stares at her in utter _relief_. “Harry. You’re alive.”

“No thanks to you, Dumbledore,” Harry Potter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight glares at the old man who could only be Dumbledore, who left her with the Dursley’s – and then she sits down, the Potter crest brightening on her chair, practically radiating crimson.

Across the room, Addy sees her parents and feels terrified that in this moment, her character, her _facade_ is equal to them both.

There is a clamour, practically a riot, but Fudge dismisses it, calling for order that only comes when the aurors boom cannon noises throughout the giant room. Harry Potter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight watches the duel and while the duellers can’t see her – they can’t see anything outside their duelling ring – she knows that this was important, that it was _for_ something.

The duel is much less impressive than most of the crowd expect. Within a few spells, Sirius Black is too angry to do anything else but beat Pettigrew to a pulp, the ratlike man transforming into…well, into a _rat_. Sirius Black doesn’t hesitate to turn him back into a man, kicking and punching him, snapping his wand and screaming at him. The screams tell Harry Potter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight more than she ever wanted to know about the circumstances of her parents’ deaths.

 _I have a home with him_ , she sees Sirius Black and understands, intimately, as her anger rises. _He’s drawing this out too long though._

“Just kill him already,” Harry Potter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight mutters, right next to Albus Dumbledore. His sudden penetrative gaze is distracting and she looks at him-

_-and it’s like falling and she is a snake, eating an adder and it’s a cycle, on and on she eats the adder, again and again-_

“GET OUT OF HER HEAD!” Addy hears her mother shout and then there’s a clang, like a giant bell and a shrill ringing that comes from above her, from the Potter crest-

“Lady Black, return to your seat, the aurors-”

“No!” And Addy is hazy- _I am a snake, but why am I big?-_ her mother flashes in front of her vision and there’s a _crunch_ before Albus Dumbledore falls to the ground. People grab for Narcissa’s arms and Addy hisses loud and animalistic because _that is my mother! Get your hands off of her!_

She leaps from her chair, fangs sinking into the nearest arm and they yelp, flinging her. She – coincidentally – gets flung into the next one and it’s only Narcissa grabbing her tail that causes her to stop, hiss and curl around her mothers arm.

“Addy, calm down, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

Addy is a snake and she doesn’t quite understand, but this is her mother and her mother is safe. She coils up and up, making her way over her shoulder to her neck and collarbone, but she is not like the adder, she does not tighten around her like a noose and threaten to kill her. _This is mother and I know I love her._

“Serpentine treasure,” comes Lucius’ voice, “you must become a witch again.”

 _No!_ She hisses at him, whining. _I do not wish to become a human again. I can protect you as a snake!_

“Darling, transform back, for mother, please,” Narcissa whispers before Sirius Black’s shouting attracts Addy’s attention.

“-is she? What happened? Where is my goddaughter?” Aurors are hauling at him, keeping him down in the ring. Peter Pettigrew is lying on the floor, dying- no, dead. Addy sniffs and senses a dead body, but it smells like rat and while she likes mice well enough, rats make her ill sometimes-

“Addy, change back, now, before we have to do it ourselves,” her father’s voice is commanding and attracts her attention. Addy looks at her father, hissing sadly. His voice reminds her of when Draco rode his broom. _He used his freedom to take the wrong choice,_ the snake in the roses whispers in her mind. She thinks, _I must use my freedom to make the right choice, before my freedom is taken from me._

Addy coils and twists down her mother’s arms, reaching across to her father who holds out his hands. There are flashes – cameras that Addy does not like, but she has to change back into a human now and she does. As she does, though, she makes sure to wrap her growing arms around her fathers neck, hiding her face in his collar.

“Dobby’s glamours are gone,” Narcissa murmurs, the house-elf invisibly squeaking at his failure, but Narcissa sends him away with a flick of her wrist and a strong command.

“Time to go, serpentine treasure,” Lucius takes his wife’s hand and they apparate away. Addy dislikes the twisting, airless sensation but she endures, breathing in deeply. She thinks later that they must have put a sleeping charm on her like they do when she’s not sleeping in early hours of the morning, when she wakes in her bed in her silk pyjamas, initials stitched on her sleeve and collar.

“Mummy?” Addy pads through the house to her parents’ rooms. Inside, her parents lie together, asleep. “Dad?”

Lucius blinks a bleary eye, muttering a _come here_ that Addy agrees with, climbing up onto the bed and crawling into the middle, accidentally kneeing her mother in the face and stepping on her hair as she gets under the covers.

“That hurt,” Narcissa mumbles, “Addy?”

“Hi mum,” Addy presses a kiss to her chin, smiling as her mother repeats the gesture blindly, kissing her eyebrow.

Adelaide Malfoy doesn’t care about politics or Dark Lords. Adelaide Malfoy cares about her family – her mother, her father and her brother. They’re the good extreme to the Dursley’s bad and she is happy that she is Addy. Her parents know that too and are quick to correct any and everybody when they mistakenly call her _Harry Potter_.

Adelaide Malfoy doesn’t care about politics or Dark Lords. Adelaide Malfoy cares about how her parents withdraw her brother from school and teach them German over the remaining school year so they can go to Durmstrang Institute. Adelaide Malfoy cares about how her brother scowls and hexes anyone at Durmstrang who thinks they can call her _Harry Potter_ and she cares about how he misses Britain, because with changing schools comes changing country.

Adelaide Malfoy cares about those that she loves, because she loves them and because they love her.

So when some stupid wizard thinks he can summon _her father_ and have him _bring Addy to him_ to be summarily _murdered_ , well…he’s not a Dark Lord if he’s dead, or so her mother says before taking the diary Lord Voldemort had entrusted to Lucius Malfoy and using it to destroy him, soul-outwards. It says something about her mother as well, when she tells Addy she’s not going to have sit in the ritual pentagram with the other horcruxes because she took it out of her head the first night she arrived and trapped it in her least-favourite piece of jewellery.

Adelaide Malfoy loves her family and her family will fuck you over if you even think of messing with her, because they love her too.


End file.
